River: Holiday in Blue
by Elise-Collier
Summary: A very brief one-shot Christmas story set post-Jurassic World and pre-Fallen Kingdom. Claire reflects on love lost, set to the tune of "River" from Joni Mitchell's Blue album. Inspired by trailer-induced Clawen melancholy.


_**This one-shot was inspired by Megan Hilty's rendition of Joni Mitchell's classic "River." I saw her perform it 2 days after the**_ **Fallen Kingdom _trailer_** _ **premiere, and it just fit. Megan said the song reminds us that not everyone is happy during the holidays. I view this (very) short story as a possible continuation of any of my previous works - since I always connected them to canon - but truly an independent piece altogether. I hope you like it.**_

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Claire returned to her dark and quiet condo after a long day of work. The silence was deafening. It consumed her like a black hole. She dropped her grocery bag on the kitchen counter and poured herself a glass of gin before doing anything else. As she sipped the clear liquid, she watched the brightly-colored lights on her neighbors' Christmas trees twinkling through her living room windows. Claire didn't decorate the condo this year. She didn't want to unpack their ornaments. When you break up with someone outside the holiday season, you forget to divide those assets. Assets. The word burned in her brain like the gin in her throat.

After finishing her meager dinner for one, Claire sat on her sofa and turned on the TV. It was tuned to a channel showing a holiday concert. Her stomach churned at the idea of listening to saccharine songs about snow and Santa Claus. Just as she was about to switch it off, an acoustic guitar began to play a familiar and evocative melody that was decidedly not merry. Claire dropped her remote and felt paralyzed listening to words that captured her soul's cry. The female singer's voice may as well have been her own.

 _It's coming on Christmas_

 _They're cutting down trees_

 _They're putting up reindeer_

 _And singing songs of joy and peace_

 _Oh I wish I had a river_

 _I could skate away on_

Claire's eyes filled with tears. She would be "skating away" to Wisconsin next week to spend the actual holiday with her sister and nephews. She was flying unaccompanied. She'd been keeping busy enough to suppress any thoughts about how difficult that could be. It would be the first time in a decade that she traveled to Wisconsin alone. She always ended up alone.

 _But it don't snow here_

 _It stays pretty green_

 _I'm going to make a lot of money_

 _Then I'm going to quit this crazy scene_

 _I wish I had a river_

 _I could skate away on_

Winters in Southern California felt as unnatural to her as winters in Costa Rica. But here she was. He wanted to leave early on. He said they needed a fresh start. Claire didn't feel the job was done. She wanted to stay and "fight the good fight." She thought that was what he tried to teach her to do. She thought that was how he wanted her to be. She also needed to assuage her guilt. She asked him for time. He gave it to her. He always gave her everything she asked him for. They ended up fighting each other. And it was not good.

 _I wish I had a river so long_

 _I would teach my feet to fly_

 _Oh I wish I had a river_

 _I could skate away on_

Work was where she had the most success and felt most in control. The specific tasks and goals didn't matter. Her patterns of behavior were the same. She could disconnect and abandon all emotion by focusing on the job at-hand. It was a clever way to avoid personal attachment to others. Claire had been surrounded by throngs of people in her day-to-day life for years, but she only ever let a few into her heart.

 _I made my baby cry_

 _He tried hard to help me_

 _You know, he put me at ease_

 _And he loved me so naughty_

 _Made me weak in the knees_

 _Oh I wish I had a river_

 _I could skate away on_

She never felt so loved and needed as she did by him. It was almost too good to be true. She often wondered why. No one else ever thought she was that special. No one else tolerated her like he did. He more than tolerated her. He made her feel strong and powerful, capable of anything. And the sex. Claire couldn't think about it too much or she would find herself yearning for his touch. She knew no one would ever compare to him.

 _I'm so hard to handle_

 _I'm selfish and I'm sad_

 _Now I've gone and lost the best baby_

 _That I ever had_

 _Oh I wish I had a river_

 _I could skate away on_

He gave and gave until he was exhausted. She never gave enough in return. She needed to maintain control. Claire pushed him away. She eventually asked him to leave. He asked her to come with him. She couldn't let go of the work, couldn't pass the reins to someone else. Not even for him. She never saw him cry before that day. Now, that is how she will always remember him. The devastation she wrought.

 _I wish I had a river so long_

 _I would teach my feet to fly_

 _Oh I wish I had a river_

 _I made my baby say goodbye_

She forced his hand. She gave him no choice. He tried to be her partner, but he told her that she preferred a puppet. Like others before him, he also told her that she didn't want to be happy. His parting gift. He turned out like all the rest. Maybe he was right. Maybe they all were. It hurt more coming from him.

 _It's coming on Christmas_

 _They're cutting down trees_

 _They're putting up reindeer_

 _And singing songs of joy and peace_

 _I wish I had a river_

 _I could skate away on_

Claire turned off the TV at the end of the song. She felt lost. She'd been empty ever since he left. Her supposedly righteous new career didn't fill the void. She needed him but couldn't ask him to come back. Not now. She was too proud. There would have to be a reason. Or was needing him reason enough?

She opened her text message screen. She had deleted all past message strings that included him, but she kept his number in her phone. He told her to, should she ever need him again. He was so good to her. Again, she wondered why. Why did his love seem so much more powerful than her own?

She started a new message. She typed, "I need you." She deleted it and typed, "I love you." She deleted it and typed, "I'm sorry." Round and round again she agonized over the words and pondered limitless questions. What if he had someone new? What if he had replaced her in his heart? What had she done?

She dropped her phone and began to cry anew. She couldn't press send. The words "I love you" stared back at her. If they were true, why did she let him go? She didn't deserve him. She was broken in some profound way that even he couldn't fix. She decided to let him be.

Many miles away, he was staring at his phone, too. He thought of her every day. It was bittersweet. He tried to make her happy, but she wouldn't bend enough to make them work as a pair. He knew it wasn't all her fault, but she was the one who asked him to leave. He might've stayed forever. Maybe he didn't fight hard enough. Maybe he just allowed her needs to dominate his own for too long.

He never deleted her number or her message strings. When drunk or feeling low, he would scroll through her old messages to remind himself of how good it could be. He wasn't drunk tonight, but he was missing her something fierce. He was thinking about previous Christmases. He wondered if she kept their decorations. He wondered if she put them up, to honor their memories. Their life that he thought they were building together.

When he opened her message string, he saw those three blinking dots. His heart skipped a beat. He hoped it wasn't a mistake or an accident. It soothed his soul to imagine that she was thinking of him in the same moment. The dots kept blinking. No words appeared. He watched and waited for what seemed like an eternity. Until the dots disappeared.

He knew it was not a mistake. Not now. Not ever. He loved her, but he set her free. She was working her way back to him. She belonged to him just as he belonged to her. He knew it even if she wasn't there yet. He could wait. That didn't mean he'd go easy on her when she returned. It would be different next time. It would last.

He turned on his TV. It was tuned to a channel showing a holiday concert. Michael Bublé was singing an old standard in a melancholy but hopeful way. He closed his eyes and focused on the lyrics.

 _I'm dreaming tonight of a place I love_

 _Even more than I usually do_

 _And although I know it's a long road back_

 _I promise you_

 _I'll be home for Christmas..._ _If only in my dreams_

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 ** _Thanks for indulging me this little piece. Leave a review with your thoughts, and I promise to get back to finishing_ Playoff _now._**


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